
FE AX!) CHARACTER 



FREDERICK AUGUSTUS RAUCH, 



FIRST PRESIDENT OF MARSHALL COLLEGE 



1 EULOGY 



DELIVERED ON OCCASION OF THE RE-INTERMENT OE HLS REMAINS AT 
LANCASTER, PA., MARCH 7TH, 1859. 



REV. JOHN W. NEVIN, D. D 



CHAMBERSBURG, PA. : 

]• B I N T ED BY M . K I E F E E R & CO 

1859. 



LIFE AND CHARACTER 



OP 



FREDERICK AUGUSTUS RAUCH, 



FIRST PRESIDENT OF MARSHALL COLLEGE: 



A EULOGY 



DELIVERED ON OCCASION OF THE RE-INTERMENT OF HIS REMAINS AT 
LANCASTER, PA., MARCH 7TH, 1859. 



BY 



REV. JOHN W.^NEVIN, D. D 




ir- 



CHAMBERSBURG, PA. : 

PRINTED BY M. KIEFFER k CO. 
1859. 



\ 



I* 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 



Soon after the consolidation of Marshall College and Frank- 
lin College, in the Spring of 1853, the Alumni Association dis- 
cussed the question of the removal of the remains of Doctor 
Eauch from Mercersburg to Lancaster, and in July, 1855, 
took the following action : 

Whereas, since the removal of Marshall College to Lancaster 
and the sale of the College property at Mercersburg, the re- 
mains of the venerated Dr. Eauch, the first President of Mar- 
shall College, lie alone, and are liable to exposure and abuse ; 
and 

Whereas, it is proper that these honored remains should lie 
near the spot .to be occupied by the new College edifice ; and 
finally, 

Whereas, the relatives of the deceased President, have, upon 
consultation, acquiesced in any proper measure, which may be 
devised for the removal and suitable consignment of his re- 
mains ; therefore 

Resolved, That a committee of three be appointed to propose 
some suitable action in the case. 

Kev. Dr. Bomberger, Dr. Mayburry and Geo. W. Brewer, 
Esq., were appointed the committee and reported as follows : 

That, in every view of the case, it seems proper that the re- 
mains of the first and honored President of our Collegiate Insti- 
tution should repose under the shadow of the College itself and 
be under its immediate guardianship. The presence of his tomb 
and a suitable monument over it, would be an abiding memen- 
to of his virtues and excellence, and render the new College 
grounds more precious in the eyes of the older Alumni. We 
recommend the following action : 

1. That application be made to the Board of Trustees of 
Franklin and Marshall College for a suitable piece of ground 
to be occupied for the purpose above named, and for their co- 
op eration in the matter. 



2. That a committee of five be appointed to collect the ne- 
cessary means for the proposed removal and the erection of a 
monument. And that this committee be authorized to super- 
intend the removal, and the erection of a monument so soon as 
they have the requisite means at command. 

A committee was accordingly appointed by the Alumni As- 
sociation, consisting of Eev. J. H. A. Bomberger, D. D., Eev. 
M. Kieffer, D. D., Eev. E. Y. Gerhart, D. D., Eev. G. H. Mar- 
tin, and Eev. G. "W. Williard. At a subsequent meeting this 
committee was reconstructed. It is now composed of nine 
members, namely, Bev. J. H. A. Bomberger, D. D., Eev. M. Kief- 
fer, D. D., Eev. E. V. Gerhart, D. D„ Eev. S. H. Eeid, Jacob 
Heyser, Esq , James L. Eeynolds, Esq., Eev. Prof. Theodore 
Appel, Hon. John Cessna, Hon. John W. Killinger. 

In accordance with these instructions the application was 
made to the Board of Trustees in July, 1856. The Board re- 
sponded cordially to the request, instructing the Executive 
Committee to purchase a lot of ground in the Lancaster Ceme- 
tery and have the remains of Doctor Eauch removed and in- 
terred. The Executive Committee acted promptly ; but the 
purchase of the lot was embarrassed and delayed by some pre- 
vious financial transactions between the College Board and the 
Cemetery ; so that a deed for the lot was not obtained until the 
Spring of 1858 ; and the removal of the remains was in conse- 
quence deferred until the ensuing winter. 

In pursuance of these arrangements, Eev. E, Y. Gerhart, a 
member of the Committee, repaired to Mercersburg and super- 
intended the exhuming of the remains on Tuesday, the first of 
last March. In performing this work it became apparent with 
what consideration the deceased had been buried. The coffin, 
enclosed in a heavy box, was laid upon a flooring of brick, and 
covered by a strong, well-built arch -, the grave was then filled 
up to the surface with brick laid in uiortar, no ground whatev- 
er having been used. After removing the arch, the lid of the 
box was found to be firm ; and the coffin itself in a very good 
state of preservation. By means of ropes the coffin was raised 
entire, containing the remains untouched and undisturbed; 
then put into a new coffin-shaped box, and thus transported to 
Lancaster. The committee have great pleasure in saying that 
the exhumation proceeded from beginning to end without any 
occurrences which were inconsistent with the solemnity of the 



occasion, or in violation of the sense of respect due the ashes of 
the beloved and honored dead. 

At Lancaster the remains were deposited in the first Ger- 
man Eeformed church until the day of burial. A new coffin 
was ordered just large enough to contain the old one. 

The funeral ceremonies took place on Tuesday, the 8th of 
March, at 10 o'clock; the services being held in the German 
Eeformed church. Whilst the sacred remains, borne by Hon. 
A. L. Hayes, Emanuel C. Eeigart, Esq., Dr. F. A. Muhlenberg, 
Prof. TVm. M. Kevin, Hon. B. Champneys, Dr. J. L. Atlee, 
Hon. H. G. Long and Eev. Henry Harbaugh, (several of whom 
had been personal acquaintances of the deceased,) were carried 
along the aisle and placed before the altar, the choir in a sub- 
dued and mellow tone chanted the introductory sentences of 
the burial service : " I am the resurrection and the life, saith 
the Lord ; he that belie veth in me, though he were dead, yet 
shall he live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall 
never die." Prof. Appel offered the Invocation, and announced 
the hymn commencing : "Hark ! what the voice from heaven 
proclaims" — the same hymn that was sung in the house of Dr. 
Eauch at Mercersburg on the sad day of his burial. Eev. G. 
F. Krotel read 1 Cor. 15 : 12-58, and the prayer was offered 
by Eev. Dr. B. C. TVolff. Then followed the eulogy on the 
life and character of Dr. Eauch, by his friend and colleague, 
Eev. Dr. J. W. Kevin. From him alone who knew the deceased 
so well, who shared so intimately his joys and sorrows, his 
hopes and fears, could come this beautiful tribute to his memo- 
ry, breathing a touching tenderness in every sentence. A 
deep, solemn silence pervaded the congregation ; and the pre- 
cious memories of the past moved to silent tears of affection 
the Professors, the students, and others, as the venerable ora- 
tor called them to life again around those illustrious remains. 

After the eulogy, Prof. T. C. Porter offered the Lord's Pray- 
er ; and- the services in the church were concluded by the choir 
singing the Hymn of Simeon : " Lord, now lettest Thou Thy 
servant depart in peace, according to Thy word." The audience 
now formed into procession, composed of the clergy and many 
prominent citizens, members of the Board of Trustees, the Fac- 
ulty, and students of the College ; and followed the remains to 



the Cemetery, where the burial services were conducted by the 
Rev. E. Y. Gerhart. Bequiescat in pace. 

Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes ; but we wait in 
hope, looking for the general resurrection in the last day and 
the life of the world to come, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

e. y. a 

Lancaster, Pa. ; June 4th, 1859. 



EULOGY 



We have before us to day, my Christian friends, inclos- 
ed in that quiet coffin, the remains of the first President 
of Marshall College, Dr. Frederick Augustus Rauch. 
His death took place at Mercersburg, on the morning of 
the second day of March, 1841, now eighteen years ago. 
He was buried on the fourth of March, with large funeral 
attendance, in the corner of a retired grove belonging to 
the College grounds, which was then first set apart for cem- 
etery purposes. It was a bright, sunny day ; in notable 
contrast, I remember, with an uncommonly rough storm of 
snow toward the close of the same week ; a day, which was 
made memorable for the nation at large, by the inaugura- 
tion of Gen. Harrison as President of the United States — 
a most brilliant political occasion, destined to be itself dis- 
mally overclouded, a very short time afterwards, by the 
mournful intelligence of his death. 

It seems like a dream now, that whole time — so near at 
hand for memory in one view, and yet in another already 
so far away. Called up by the presence of these venerated 
relics, the image of the man is again before me, as I knew 
him so well, and loved him, during the last sad year of his 
life. His head prematurely bald ; his broad, intellectual 
brow ; his mild, German eye ; his generous transparent, 
deeply sympathetic face ; all are before me once more, in 
vivid picture, as I used to meet him in the intercourse of 
daily life. The inborn delicacy of his spirit, the earnest 
enthusiasm of his character, his keen gentlemanly sensibili- 
ties, his absolutely irritable impatience of all that was dis- 
honorable and mean, return upon me now like the music 
of Ossian, mournful and yet pleasant to the soul. I see him 



8 

in the college chapel, Lis whole soul beaming from his 
countenance, in the midst of the students, who were so 
largely the object of his pride and love. I see him in his 
study, surrounded with his full shelves of choice German 
books — the works of Kant, Jacobi, Fichte, Schelling, He- 
gel, Schleiermacher, Daub, and the later standard writers 
generally on Psychology and Ethics — all of the best editions, 
and done up in the handsomest style of binding; as though 
he would have considered it a kind of desecration to have 
them about him under any meaner form ; discoursing of 
his own literary purposes and plans, and wrestling with 
the sense of disease in the vain hope of being able to carry 
them into effect. I see him in the bosom of his family ; 
the centre of all kindly affections, the soul of all generous 
hospitality, actualizing, as it might seem, in his relations 
to his own Phebe, the full sense of what he has so beauti- 
fully described as the true ideal of marriage, in his Psy- 
chology. I see him, as I looked with apprehension upon 
his pale face the last time I saw him alive ; when in reply 
to my suggestion, that he ought not to trouble himself with 
speculation now, but should give himself rather to the 
simplest, childlike exercises of faith, he said in substance 
promptly : " That is just what I am trying to do — I have 
no power for anything else." I see him, as when shocked 
with the sudden intelligence of his decease, (for he went 
off' at last with scarcely a minute's warning,) and having 
made my way over to the chamber where he lay, with no 
one present but his wife, I gazed upon his lifeless form, and 
could but turn .me to the w T all and weep aloud, in sympa- 
thy with her then silent and almost tearless grief. I see 
him, as two days after he lay with snow white shroud, se- 
renely tranquil, in the unclosed coffin — his countenance 
like the sculptured image of some Grecian sage — while all 
around him, in the house of mourning, preparations were 
going forward to bear him to the silent grave. 

All these things appear " but as yesterday when it is 
past, and as a watch in the night." And yet it is now near 
a score of years, since that solemn funeral took place. 
During that period, what great changes have gone forward 



in the world, in the land, and more particularly in the 
whole circle of interests with which Dr. Eauch stood con- 
nected at the time of his death. His wife has followed 
him long since into the spirit world. His intimate friend 
and colleague, the amiable and accomplished Professor 
Samuel W. Bucld — whose slender form and gentle spirit, 
the unpretending shrine of so much sterling dignity and 
worth, I have before me too in full vision at the present 
time, evoked by the power of the occasion — is numbered 
also with the congregation of the dead. His kind and de- 
voted physician, Dr. Little, Secretary for years of the Board 
of Trustees for Marshall College, has passed away, with 
nearly all his interesting and pleasant family. More than 
a fourth part of the graduates of the first five classes of the 
institution from 1837 to 1841, count on its catalogue now 
as deceased. May we not say indeed, that Mercersburg 
itself, as he knew it, has in great part passed away. In 
the midst of these changes, the College too has had its 
eventful history — one which it was not easy to foresee or 
anticipate at that time. What the end of it has been, we 
all know. A few years since, it was considered necessary 
to translate it to this place ; where it now flourishes, under 
a new act of incorporation, in full view of the city and the 
whole surrounding country, with the promise of a bright 
future before it, bearing the auspicious title of Franklin 
and Marshall College. 

In view of his close connection with the early history 
of the institution, and the relation he holds to its original 
and properly distinguishing genius and spirit, it has been 
felt all along that the remains of Dr. Eauch ought to fol- 
low its removal to Lancaster. The Alumni of the College 
have generously offered, in that case, to erect over his 
grave a new monument, more worthy of his memory than 
the solid obelisk which was to be left behind in Mercers- 
burg — and which is now placed there, with great propriety 
certainly, in front of the new German Eeformed church. 
To meet this proposition, the Trustees of Franklin and 
Marshall College have procured a proper plot of ground in 
the cemetery on the North East side of the town, and by 



10 

their order the remains are now brought on, for the pur- 
pose of being deposited there with suitable solemnities at 
this time. 

It has seemed proper, that something should be said, in 
connection with the occasion, concerning the life and char- 
acter of the man ; with the view of introducing him as it 
were publicly to the knowledge and consideration of the 
community, with which he is to be joined from this time 
forward in the solemn fellowship of the grave. Few who 
are here to-day ever saw Dr. Iiauch ; and although many 
among us, no doubt, have heard his name mentioned with 
honor as the first President of Marshall College, the num- 
ber is still small, we may presume, who can be said to 
know much of his actual history. It is altogether fit and 
right, therefore, that the attention of the people of Lancas- 
ter should be called in this public manner to the distin- 
guished stranger, whose presence — still speaking, though 
dead — is to become from this time forward, may we not 
say, one of the monumental honors of the place. The 
bones which lie in that cofifrn ought not to be hurried to 
their new sepulchre, without some due recognition among 
us of their more than common sacredness and worth.- 
They are the bones of a great and a good man. Let them 
be honored with all pious veneration accordingly. 

Dr. Rauch was born at Kirchbracht, in Hesse -Darmstadt, 
July 27, 1806. He lost his mother in infancy. His father 
was still living at the time of his death, in firm and vigor- 
ous health, a respectable clergyman, settled in the vicinity 
of Frankford on the Maine. Before the "Union," as it is 
called, took place between the two Confessions, he was at- 
tached to the Reformed Church. His son always spoke of 
him with reverence and affection, as a seriously pious man. 

At the age of eighteen, the son became a student at the 
University of Marburg, where he took his diploma in the 
year 1827. After this he prosecuted his studies for a year 
at Giessen. For a time, he was employed as an assistant 
in teaching by an uncle, who had charge of a literary in- 
stitution in Frankford. Another year he spent, as a stu- 
dent again, at Heidelberg. 



11 

Here he came under the special influence of the distin- 
guished philosopher and theologian, Charles Daub ; a rela- 
tion, which seems to have formed a memorable epoch in 
the history of his inward life, determining to no small ex- 
tent its whole subsequent order and form. Dr. Rauch al- 
ways cherished the highest veneration for this great rnan r 
and looked back, with fond recollection, upon the year 
spent at Heidelberg, under the light of his instructions, and 
in contact with the living power of his spirit, as in some 
respects the most interesting and important part of his ed- 
ucation. 

Daub, we are told, had an admirable faculty for drawing 
out the powers of generous minded young men, and in- 
spiring them with great and noble sentiments. He knew 
how to shatter to pieces wisely their presumptuous imagi- 
nations on the one hand ; and how to encourage and sup- 
port their efforts on the other, by giving them proper play, 
and meeting them at the right time with a warm and 
manly sympathy. Knowledge with him was not only deep, 
but full of life. In his person, the most profound specula- 
tions became instinct with living breath, and assumed the 
freshness of actual, concrete existence. In the lecture 
room, he seemed to be perfectly pervaded with his subject; 
so that it might be said to utter itself in every tone, look,, 
and gesture. And yet there was nothing rhetorical or de- 
clamatory, in the representation. Thought made itself ob- 
jective in his person. The whole man wrought in sympa- 
thy with his theme, no matter how abstract, so that the 
idea of self appeared to fall out of view entirely. Not un- 
frequently he would step down from the desk in which he 
lectured altogether, as though it were too narrow for his 
thoughts and feelings, uttering himself in tones of earnest- 
ness that would sometimes thrill his auditors with a sensa- 
tion of awe, as being scarce earthly in their character. Such 
was he in his lecture room. Where the student stood near 
to him in the intimacies of private life, he came more fully 
still under the power of the same plastic influence. The 
sphere in which his spirit moved habitually was full of 
earnestness and moral force. One could wish indeed it 



12 

had been pervaded by more of the positive element of ho- 
liness, such as breathes the atmosphere Of heaven, in 
thoughts and desires flowing actively out toward Christ. 
But it is difficult to estimate fairly the religious character 
of one, whose whole position and circumstances were so 
widely different from our own. Standing where he did, 
in the midst of abounding unbelief, and called as he was 
to wrestle with all sorts of skeptical difficulty in his own 
profoundly speculative mind, his faithfulness to the cause 
of Christianity may well command our admiration and re- 
spect. He was a man who lived for the invisible and the 
eternal, and on w T hose soul the visions of the Almighty, in 
the person of Jesus Christ, had unfolded their glory. His 
wish was to die, as he expressed it, on the cathedra or desk, 
in the midst of his professional work. And so it happened 
in fact. While engaged in lecturing, he was called away 
suddenly, A. D. 1836, in the seventy-first year of his age. 

Dr. Rauch was fitted in his whole nature, to receive a 
deep and lasting impression from the spirit of such a man. 
The time when he came within the sphere of his influence 
was favorable to this result. He had finished his academi- 
cal course, and taken his degree ; and was beginning to 
have some knowledge of the world in the way of actual 
experience. Life was coming to clothe itself in some 
measure with its proper seriousness, in opposition to the 
visionary dreams of mere youth. His mind at the same 
time was vigorously active, and the w r ay was fully open, by 
the advantages of previous education, for its free com- 
merce with truth. In these circumstances, he was not 
only introduced into Daub's lecture room, but admitted 
also to the innermost circle of his discipleship. The aged 
hierophant in the temple of knowledge fixed his eye upon 
him with friendly interest, took him encouragingly by the 
hand, and became his companion as well as guide in philo- 
sophical thinking and study. The authority which the 
teacher thus gained over the mind of his pupil was of the 
highest kind, and such as could not be destroyed by dis- 
tance or time. Dr. Eauch took a pleasure in speaking of 
what he owed to his venerable instructor in the way of 



13 

knowledge. But this was not the whole of his obligation. 
It included also an important spiritual benefit. He felt 
that he had been morally invigorated by coming within 
the range of his influence. It proved a powerful help to 
his faith. How far his religious views, as they had exist- 
ed previously to this time, may have needed reforma- 
tion, or how far the influence under which he was now 
brought operated to produce a direct and specific change, 
I am not prepared to say. Probably there was no direct 
revolution, to any extent, accomplished in the case. What- 
ever latitudinarianism our youthful theologian may have 
been chargeable with before, it is not likely that it was dis- 
tinctly defined and settled even for his own thoughts. It 
was merely the general disease of the country, which attach- 
ed itself almost necessarily at the time to a university edu- 
cation, poisoning the mind of the student, sometimes more 
and sometimes less. !Nor was it fully eradicated in Dr. 
Bauch's case, it would seem, even during his stay at Heid- 
elberg. But a new turn was given to his mind. His con- 
fidence in the great fundamental truths of Christianity was 
confirmed. A wholesome tendency was implanted in his 
religious views and feelings. And more still, productive 
ideas, the seeds of living thought, were introduced into the 
soil of his spirit, which, favored by other influences subse- 
quently, germinated and brought forth fruit, after their 
kind, in thoughts both sound and thorough with regard to 
religion generally. Under this view it was probably, rath- 
er than in reference to any direct change in himself, that 
Dr. Bauch seemed to look upon Daub in the light almost 
of a spiritual father. 

It speaks much for his character, that such a man as 
Daub should have honored him, as he seems to have done, 
with his special notice and favor. He admitted him to the 
most free and familiar intercourse, and regarded him evi- 
dently with more than common interest, as one who might 
be expected to bear in no small part afterwards the mantle 
of his own spirit. 

On leaving Heidelberg, Dr. Bauch became extraordina- 



14 

ry professor, as it is called, in the University of Giessen, 
being at the time in the 24th year of his age. In the Ger- 
man Universities, the professors are of two kinds, ordina- 
ry and extraordinary, both alike appointed by government, 
but differing in rank and salary. The ordinary professors 
compose the proper faculty, and are entitled to its privile- 
ges. The professors extraordinary are simply teachers, 
and have no farther duties or privileges. They are to be 
considered as candidates for the other station. Their po- 
sition is valued mainly as a stepping stone to preferment. 
It gives a young man a certain rank and standing in the 
University ; shows that he has enjoyed the notice of gov- 
ernment ; and authorises him to calculate on further promo- 
tion, if he continue faithful to himself. This, however, does 
not take place as a matter of course. If a professor extra- 
ordinary allow himself to sit down satisfied with his attain- 
ments, as a scholar, he may remain extraordinary professor, 
all his life. In many cases, a number of years elapse, be- 
fore the wished for ^promotion is reached. It is of course 
complimentary to the character and standing of the candi- 
date, when he is carried rapidly forward from this position 
to an ordinary profesorship. This compliment was enjoy- 
ed by Dr. Rauch. At the end of a year spent at Giessen, 
under the appointment which has been mentioned, he re- 
ceived an invitation to Heidelberg as ordinary professor. 
His fair prospects however, and the high hopes with which 
his bosom had been filled in view of them, were here sud- 
denly blasted, as it seemed, forever. 

In some public exercise at Giessen, he was led to utter 
his mind too freely, on the subject of government. The 
precise point in which he offended, is not known. The 
whole affair was one, to which he never liked to refer sub- 
sequently ; and few among his friends in this country knew 
at all, that any political difficulty had made it necessary for 
him to leave his native land. He always charged himself, 
it is believed, with some imprudence in the case, and never 
affected to make a merit of it, as he might easily have 
done in this country, and as most other foreigners proba- 



15 

bly in similar circumstanees would have had no hesitation in 
doing. Those who were familar with Dr. Rauch and who 
know how easy a thing it is to wake the jealousy of Euro- 
pean governments, where the subject of human rights 
comes at all into consideration, will not be disposed to sur- 
mise after all any thing very dreadful in the freedom of 
speech, into which he fell on this occasion. Such as it was, 
however, it drew upon him the sharp displeasure of the 
powers above him ; and it became necessary for him final- 
ly, in the judgment of his friends, to provide for his own 
safety by a voluntary self-expatriation. His departure was 
sudden. He had time to make only a hurried visit to his 
father, between the hours of eleven and one at night; when 
he bade him a sorrowful adieu, and turned his face toward 
the broad Atlantic, an emigrant, bound for a new trial of 
the world in the far-off West. It was not the love of wan- 
dering, nor the visions of a romantic fancy, nor any par 
ticular zeal he felt for our republican institutions as such, 
which brought him to exchange Germany for America. 
He was ardently attached to his fatherland, and had every 
reason to be satisfied there with his circumstances and pros- 
pects. It must have been with an immense sacrifice of 
feeling, that he found himself compelled to abandon all, 
and become a stranger in a foreign land. 

He came to this country in the fall of 1831, having com- 
pleted the 25th year of his age. His first year was spent 
at Easton, in this State, where he applied himself diligently 
and with great success to the cultivation of the English 
language. Here he was made to feel the heavy disabilities 
of a foreigner, whose speech and former education both 
conspire to isolate his existence, in the midst of the com- 
munity to which he belongs. His German itself, even in 
the midst of a German settlement, was not of a character 
to open the way for him at once to any public service ; be- 
ing materially different from the same language, as usually 
spoken in this country. He had made up his mind, how- 
ever, not to give way to difficulties or discouragements ; 
and wisely set himself to understand and enter into the 



16 

modes of thinking with which he was surrounded, instead 
of fretting and quarreling as foreigners sometimes do 5 with 
what might not be according to his mind, as though he 
could expect the world to bend for his accommodation, 
rather than that he should bend himself. His knowledge 
of music here stood him in more stead at first, than his 
knowledge of philosophy, or his acquaintance with Latin 
and Greek. He excelled in this art, practically, as well as 
theoretically, thanks to his German education ; and to 
procure himself an independent support, did not hesitate 
to give lessons on the piano. This, let it be remembered, 
instead of occupying the high position of a professor, the 
associate and colleague of Charles Daub, in the University 
of Heidelberg. So much for meddling with politics rash- 
ly, in the neighborhood of the sunny Rhine ! 

.His excellent spirit, joined to his general cultivation, soon 
won him friends. Though short, his sojourn in Easton 
brought him into connections and relations, which had the 
effect in some measure of causing him to feel at home in 
the land of his exile, and to which he always referred af- 
terwards with fond and affectionate interest. 

In June, 1832, he went to York; having received an ap- 
pointment to take the charge of a classical school, in con- 
nection with the Theological Seminary of the German Re- 
formed Synod, which was then rising into importance in 
that place under the care of the late Dr. Mayer. Here he 
continued, diligently employed in teaching, till the autumn 
of 1835. The amount of labor which he performed du- 
ring this time was very great. 

In the fall of 1832 he was ordained by the Synod, at 
York, to the office of the holy ministry. 

In the year 1833, he became united in marriage with a 
daughter of Mr. Laomi Moore, of Morristown, in New 
Jersey. Of this lady it is sufficient to say here, that she 
was in all respects worthy to be the wife of such a man. 

In the fall of 1835, he removed to Mercersburg. The 
classical school connected with the Seminary was now in 
the way of being erected into a College, and both institu- 



17 

tions were to become located, permanently, as it was sup- 
posed, in that place. Such was the origin of Marshall 
College. Dr. Raueh was at once invited to take charge of 
it as President ; being allowed to retain, at the same time, 
the connection into which he had been brought before this 
with the Theological Seminary, as Professor of Biblical 
Literature. In this responsible position he continued faith- 
fully and zealously laboring, in the midst of many difficul- 
ties and discouragements, till the time of his decease. 

For more than a year previous to this event, his health 
had been in a precarious state ; his nervous system shat- 
tered ; his strength in a great measure gone. He still per- 
sisted, however, in his academical engagements, and other 
literary employments; looking upon mental exercise as 
medicinal in his case, rather than hurtful, and as being in- 
dispensable indeed to the proper elasticity and tone of his 
being. This idea might have been correct, within certain 
limits ; but he carried it, no doubt, altogether too far. Had 
he abandoned his studies entirely for a time, and given 
himself to travelling and recreation, his health in all prob- 
ability would have been restored, and his life preserved. 
Even as it was, his case seemed in the winter to have fair- 
ly weathered its crisis, and to be in the full progress of re- 
covery, when a catarrhal fever, epidemic in February, fell 
upon his exhausted frame, and reduced him lower than 
ever. His dissolution took place a shore time after. 

My own personal acquaintance with him commenced 
only one year before the close of his life, when I was call- 
ed to be his colleague in the Theological Seminary. I had 
some knowledge previously of his general standing, but no 
particular information with regard to his character and 
spirit. Intimately associated as I was to be with him in 
professional life, I had of course felt some anxiety in rela- 
tion to this point ; a feeling for which there seemed to be 
the more reason, as it was understood that serious difficul- 
ties had already actually occurred in the official connec- 
tions of Dr. Rauch, in the case of which a large share of 

2 



blame was supposed by many to rest properly on bis shoul- 
ders. All anxiety of tbis sort, bowever, fled from my 
spirit in a very short time, wben I came to know tbe man 
bimself. I found myself attracted to bim from tbe start. 
His countenance was tbe index of bis beart, open, gener- 
ous, and pure, I soon felt tbat my relations witb bim were 
likely to be both pleasant and safe. Farther acquaintance 
only served to strengthen and confirm this first impression. 
It was clear to me that he had been misunderstood and 
wronged. He was one of the last men certainly who might 
be supposed capable of dishonorable conduct in any way. 
Then I perceived very soon also, tbat his learning and in- 
tellectual power were of a higher order altogether than I 
(bad before felt authorized to expect; although it was 
not until the appearance of his Psychology, that I learn- 
ed myself to place him sufficiently high in this respect. 
Here again it became clear to me that his proper worth 
bad not been rightly understood ; and I could not but look 
upon it as a strange and interesting fact, that the infant 
College of the German Reformed Church should have 
bad placed at its head, there in Mercersburg — without care, 
or calculation, or consciousness even on the part of its 
friends generally — one of the very first minds of Germany, 
which under other circumstances might well have been 
eounted an ornament and honor to the oldest institution 
in tbe land. 

As a scholar, L>r. Rauch excelled particularly in Classi- 
cal Literature, in Natural History, in Moral Philosophy, 
and in Mental Science. He was at home also in the 
sphere of Aesthetics, and bad his mind richly stored with 
the creations of genius as they belong to the fine arts gen- 
erally. The German Philosophy, with all its bewildering 
abstractions, was for him the subject of full, familiar 
knowledge ; while it commanded also bis general confi- 
dence and respect. He saw in its different cardinal sys- 
tems not contradiction and confusioa so much, as the unity 
of one and the same grand intellectual movement, borne 



19 

forward still from one stage of development to another. 
Of course, in this view, he placed a special value on the 
philosophy of Hegel — the culmination of the process — al- 
though he was very far from surrendering himself blindly 
to his authority. It was his belief, that Hegel's philosophy, 
in spite of all the bad use which had been made of it, had 
wrought a real reform in the whole world of mind ; espe- 
cially in rightly defining the objects and proper bounds of 
the different sciences, and in settling the general method 
by which they should be cultivated. 

In these circumstances he found himself impelled, to at- 
tempt the work of transferring to some extent into the lit- 
erature of this country — not Hegel's philosophy as such, 
nor the metaphysics of Germany as a distinct and separate 
interest — but the life and power of German thinking gen- 
erally, under its more recent forms, in all that relates to 
the phenomenology of the soul. For this task, he was 
eminently qualified — beyond all other scholars probably 
belonging to our land. He was at home in the philosophy 
of Great Britain, as well as in that of Germany, and knew 
accurately the points of contact and divergency by which 
the relations of the two systems of thought to one another, 
generally considered, are characterized. By a ten year's 
residence on this side of the Atlantic, he had become fairly 
domiciliated in American modes of thinking and feeling, 
without being divested of the intellectual habit which be- 
longed to him as a German ; an immense advantage, as 
compared with the position of those, who look at either of 
these systems of life externally only, from the bosom of the 
other, and so attempt to bring them together. Not only was 
Dr. Eauch familiar with American life and thought, but 
he had come to identify himself completely with us as* a 
people. He had ceased to look upon himself as a foreign- 
er, and had no sympathy with the morbid feeliug, which 
leads some to isolate themselves through life in a strange 
land, by cliuging in their own consciousness continually to 
the thought of themselves under this view, so as to force 
the same thought on those with whom they are surround- 



20 

ed. He loved this country, though brought into it origi- 
nally, it may be said, against his own inclination, and had 
no disposition to exchange it again for Europe. He knew 
how to appreciate our political institutions, as compared 
with those of the old world. Our practical spirit was hon- 
ored by him with due regard, and had confessedly wrought 
a partial modification in his own views of truth and life. 
Thus was he fitted to negotiate understandingly and faith- 
fully, between the two interests, in the midst of which he 
stood. He knew that a simple transfer of German thoughts 
into English forms of expression, was not what the interests 
of learning require in this country ; but that it is only by 
being reproduced in new creations, from a mind transfused 
with their inward power and at the same time at home in 
the American element of thought, that they can be expect- 
ed to become truly and permanently valuable. The idea 
of such a reproduction of the moral wealth of Germany, 
under forms intelligible and safe, in the sphere of our 
American philosophy, may be considered perhaps the fa- 
vorite dream of Dr. liauch's life. It animated him in his 
work, as a teacher. It stimulated his zeal as a writer. 

His work on Psychology, published the summer before 
his death, was only the beginning of what he had it in con- 
templation to attempt, for the interests of literature, in this 
way. 

Much more important, in his own judgment, was to have 
been his Christian Ethics. The Psychology was regarded 
as preparatory and introductory to this, and was shaped 
with reference to it more or less from beginning to end. 
He had in his mind a general system, which required the 
one work to be followed by the other, in order that the 
whole might appear in its true light. And then to make 
the conception still more complete, the Moral Philosophy 
was to be itself succeeded again by a treatise on Aesthetics. 
It was only when all should be brought out, that he ex- 
pected the true character of the primary work to be fully 
seen. 

On the Moral Philosophy especially his heart was most 



- 21 

earnestly set. He seemed to feel within himself the ur- 
gency of a special call, to bestow upon our literature some- 
thing more worthy of the great subject than the unscientif- 
ic systems, commonly current in this country under its 
name. As he had been lecturing upon it for years, he was 
prepared to bring his matter into a suitable form, for the 
press, with very little delay ; and proposed to make a be- 
ginning with it the very week in which he was compelled 
to take his bed, hoping to get the work out in the course 
of the ensuing summer. For months previously, the plan 
of the work had been before him in all its details, till the 
whole seemed to be brought to the most complete and sat- 
isfactory conception, like the ideal which fills the thoughts 
of the painter or sculptor, when a true creation is about to 
be produced by either in the form of art. 

It may not be out of place to quote here, in regard to this 
subject, part of a letter which he wrote to me some months 
before his death from Saratoga, where he had gone for the 
benefit of his health. The extract — a translation from the 
German original — is well suited, not simply to show how 
he felt on the subject of his proposed work, but to illus- 
trate also the general earnestness and generosity of his 
nature. 

" The most agreeable hope animates me," he says, "that 
the goodness of the Lord will again restore me to health, 
and give me new strength, to labor in conjunction with 
yourself, my dear friend, for a great and noble object. To 
this object I wish to devote what remains of my life, that 
I may depart hence in the end as a true servant of the 
Lord. My Christian Ethics have occupied me very pleas- 
antly on my whole journey. The plan of the work lies 
now before me, the whole with all its connections and 
parts, clear and distinct, like a transparent crystal. All 
the transitions show themselves plainly ; so that if I were 
able, as a painter, to present the whole in outward picture, 
it would appear to all, not as a composition, but as a living 
organism, which being animated with a single idea throws 
off whatever does not belong to it by its own life. The 



22 

thought that it has fallen to my lot, by divine direction as 
it would seem, to offer as a present to the literature of this 
country some portion of what the noble German mind has 
produced in the sphere of ideas, lifts me up and imparts to 
my being a value not previously known. In all, however, 
I never lose sight of the relation in which I have come to 
stand to you, as that in which alone my enterprises seem 
to prosper. Single and solitary no man can accomplish 
anything; only in communion with others, of kindred 
spirit with himself, can the good at which he aims be 
reached. One needs to be kept from the painful sense of 
standing alone ; a living intercourse with others, and the 
exchange of ideas, are required to give ripeness to one's 
own thoughts. And here let me be allowed in truth and 
sincerity to say, how greatly my conversations with you 
have instructed and encouraged me, and how deeply I feel 
that our association will work to advance in the best man- 
ner the great interest to whose service we are called." 
Referring afterwards to another point, he writes : " It is 
manifest that the Lord is with us. If we remain true to 
him, he will not forsake either us or our important work. 
Is it his work, and are we his servants ? Why then should 
we be discouraged or of weak faith ?" 

Thus ardent was he in the prosecution of the favorite 
interest of his life. Through all his sickness, he flattered 
himself with the hope of being restored to health ; not so 
much it seemed, out of any undue regard to life for its 
own sake, as because he felt that he had it in his power to 
be useful in the sphere in which he had been called to work. 
Life, he would say, appeared to him to be something un- 
speakably poor in any other view. Nor was it, as he 
thought, with any improper reference to his own reputa- 
tion, that he was so anxious to execute the design with 
which his soul was filled. He attached a high importance 
to his work on its own account, and could not rest easily 
under the thought of its not being accomplished. The 
idea that his sickness might be unto death, instead of draw- 
ing off his mind from the task he had in hand, served only 



2S 

to make him more anxious to get his new work ready for 
the press. Wh-en it was suggested to him, shortly before 
he took his bed, that it ^ould be -perhaps better for him to 
defer entering upon this labor for a time, his quick reply 
was : " Why, I might die, before it was done." It appear- 
ed that he would care less about dying, if only this object 
were reached. As it "was, however, with all his wish to 
live, he declared himself ready to acquiesce in the will of 
<3rod, if it should lead to a different result. 

Dr. Rauch was admirably qualified for the office he fill- 
ed, as an instructor of young men. His resources for the 
communication of knowledge, were unusually extensive, 
and his powers were altogether happily balanced and ad- 
justed with regard to one another. His imagination espe- 
cially was rich, and well stored with materials gathered 
from the universe of nature and art, under its ancient as 
well as its more modern forms. Then he carried his whole 
soul into his work. The business of teaching with him, 
w 7 as any thing but mechanical or formal. His nature was 
ardent, generous, enthusiastic ; and towards the young es- 
pecially, standing to him in the relation of pupils, it utter- 
ed itself with the most affectionate earnestness and vivacity. 
His whole intercourse with his students besides, was adapt- 
ed to win their confidence and. engage their love. There 
was no magisterial stiffness in his manners ; but on the 
contrary the greatest freedom and urbanity. The student 
was made to feel that his preceptor was his friend, and 
could scarcely fail to reciprocate the kindness, which seem- 
ed to form the very element of the relation on his part. 
Few, it is believed, have been under Dr. Rauch's instruc- 
tions for any time, without finding a strong sentiment of 
love combined in their bosoms with the feeling of respect, 
toward his person. And well his students might love 
him ; for he looked upon them as his own family. 

The College altogether, it may be said, was dear to him 
as the apple of his eye. His fondest wishes and brightest 
expectations with regard to life, clustered here, as around 
their true and proper centre. . His ambition coveted no 



24 

higher honor for this world, than that of building up Mar- 
shall College, and rendering it, by the blessing of God, an 
ornament to the State, and the glory of the Church under 
whose auspices particularly, it has been established. 

His social qualities were of the first order. He might be 
said to have been formed constitutionally, for friendship and 
affection. 'No man could be more kind and tender in the 
bosom of his own family, or more fully alive to the claims of 
domestic love. With his friends generally, he was open- 
hearted and confiding to an uncommon degree. His con- 
fidence was easily won, and where it found anything to 
rest upon soon became full and warm. It might be said 
indeed, that he was almost too ready to place himself in 
the power of others in this way. Suspicion was not the 
habit of his soul. He had no art nor cunning ; no tact for 
diplomatic management; no capacity for intrigue; no 
aptness for reaching his ends by circles and curves. The 
want of this talent, joined with a certain irritable quality 
of his nature, operated at times to place him in a some- 
what unpopular light. His feelings rose too readily to the 
surface, his heart leaped too quickly, if not into his tongue, 
at least into his tones and looks, to allow proper gracious- 
ness always toward those with whom he found reason to be 
dissatisfied. The want of art made him awkward at times, 
if not absolutely uncourteous, where others might show 
themselves bland and smooth. 

His spirit was characteristically generous and noble. 
He shrank, with a nice instinctive sensibility, from all 
that is narrow and mean, as well as from all that might be 
considered low and gross. He could never condescend to 
graduate the value of life by any merely outward or mate- 
rial scale. Truth was more to him than gold ; wisdom 
more excellent than rubies. The sense of the useful — the 
organ for calculating worldly profit and gain — was lesa 
active with him by far, than the sense of the beautiful and 
good. 

The religious views of Dr. Rauch were eminently spirit- 
ual. In using this term, however, I do not refer so much 



. 25 

to the habit of his mind in a strictly devotional view, as to 
its sympathy with the invisible and the eternal in general. 
His orthodoxy did not rest in the dead letter ; but neither 
did it stop, where the fancied superior illumination of some 
who affect to despise the letter is found stopping, in mere 
intellectual speculation. This he considered to be the 
essence of rationalism and neology; and because it seemed 
to him that much of our American divinity rested upon no 
deeper ground than this, he held it to be in principle unsafe, 
as needing only a change of circumstances to be seen vanish- 
ing ultimately into thin air. Knowledge could be real here, 
it appeared to him, only in the form of life. Faith must em- 
brace, not the notion of supernatural things simply, but the 
very power and presence of the things themselves. Reli- 
gion became for him in this view an inward commerce with 
the powers of a higher spiritual world. The invisible was 
felt to be the truly actual and real, while the outward and 
visible might be regarded as being in some sort only its 
empty shadow projected on the field of space. Innumera- 
ble analogies, adumbrations, and correspondencies, not 
obvious to common minds, seemed habitually present to 
his view, binding the universe into one sublime whole, the 
earth reflecting the heavens, and the waves of eternity 
echoing on the shores of time. There was perhaps, in this 
respect, a dash of mysticism in his constitution. But if 
such a habit be mysticism, it may be questioned whether it 
be after all so bad a thing as is sometimes imagined. Our 
philosophy and religion would both gain something prob- 
ably, if they looked less to the outward and more to the 
inward in this way. Olshausen was Dr. Ranch's favorite 
commentator on the Scriptures ; and he is counted com- 
monly to be somewhat mystical. But what spiritually 
healthful man would exchange the fulness of fresh breath- 
ing life with which he is here met, for the cold exegesis of 
a Grotius or a Macknight ? 

Such, in his life and general character, was the first Pres- 
ident of Marshall College. The institution, it was felt at 
the time, sustained an immense loss in his death. His life 



appeared to have been altogether too short for his proper 
work. Yet it can not be said of him, that ho lived in vain. 

He has left behind him a lasting monument in his work 
on Psychology. This, of course, is not without its defects. 
When can we expect to have a book on the same subject, 
that shall be all that a just criticism may require ? Some 
of its Hegelian aspects are, to say the least, a good deal 
unsatisfactory. It must be admitted too, that it is not just 
in the right form, to answer the purposes of a text book in 
the common American sense. But still, with §11 these 
concessions, we hazard nothing in- pronouncing it one of 
the most important publications in its department which 
has yet appeared in this country. It was the introduction 
into our literature of a new way of looking at the science 
of the human mind, a method which was not known among 
us before. I do not mean by this, that it was in any sense 
original or new with Dr. Ranch. He never thought of 
claiming for himself any such credit. The method has 
been common in Germany for years ; all that he pretended 
to do, was to exhibit it under an English form, working 
into it in an independent manner, the material which he 
found at hand in different German writers. His work is 
based in this way especially on the Philosophical Anthropol- 
ogy of Daub, with a proper use at the same time of other 
recent systems. The true merit of Dr. Rauch in the case 
is, that he has given us in American shape, not a transla- 
tion or copy simply of any of these transatlantic systems, 
but a living reproduction, both in matter and form, of what 
we may call their general idea. In this view, his Psychol- 
ogy, when it appeared, was something new among us in 
its kind. It formed in fact a sort of epoch in this depart- 
ment of our -literature. We. had nothing like it before; 
and we have had as yet nothing to supersede it properly 
since. 

Another interesting memorial of Dr. Rauch is found in 
a volume entitled The Inner Life, which has been brought 
out lately by one of his early pupils, the Rev. Dr. Gerhart, 
now President of Franklin and Marshall College. It con- 



27 

sists of seventeen discourses selected from bis manuscript 
sermons, and so arranged as to exhibit to a certain extent 
the unity and order of a common subject, answering to the 
title of the book. Written mainly for students, by one 
who was himself accustomed to think more than to de- 
claim, these discourses are of course not just of the popular 
order and kind. Some of them approach to the character 
of philosophico-theological dissertations. They are, how- 
ever, very far from being either abstract or dry. The grace 
of an inward, spiritual eloquence maybe said to adorn 
them throughout. They are fresh, earnest, and full of re- 
ligious life — chaste in style, tender in sentiment, beautiful 
in description, rich" in edifying and suggestive thought. 
They fairly sparkle with the gems of imagination — taking 
the faculty in its true sense, as it differs from mere fancy, 
and forms the proper soil of genius. Altogether the book 
is well suited to make us acquainted with the inward life 
of its author, reflecting as a mirror the distinguishing qual- 
ities of his mind and heart. It is especially important as 
a standing testimony to his religious character; illustrating 
the fact, as the editor of the volume tells us, " that the first 
President of Marshall College was a decided and humble 
Christian, no less than a philosopher ; that his philosophy 
was neither rationalism nor pantheism, neither sensational- 
ism nor transcendentalism in any false sense, but really 
Christian ; and that the impulse and peculiar character 
which the institution received from him in the beginning, 
was not hostile or prejudicial, as some have alleged, to 
sound Christian ideas, but subservient and favorable to the 
progress of orthodox scientific theology and true practical 
religion." 

Still more effectually in some sense the life of Dr. Rauch 
may be regarded as continuing itself in the history of Mar- 
shall College, and in the successive classes of students who 
have gone forth from it year after year, bearing along with 
them more or less of its spirit into the world. For it is 
very certain, that the soul and genius of the man, his ideal 
presence we may say, wrought powerfully on the character 



28 

of the institution, during the whole period of its continu- 
ance in Mercersburg. His ideas went largely to form the 
reigning tone of its instructions, and also to determine 
their general direction. His name became a precious lega- 
cy for the College — more highly appreciated after his death 
than it had been during his life — inspiring those who had 
the care of it with large and generous views, and at the 
same time drawing respect to it from abroad. It served 
as a sort of rallying standard for the academical pride and 
self-respect of the students. His very grave appeared to 
hallow the ground to which it belonged ; making it sacred 
to literature under its best form, and in its lonely retire- 
ment — a spot for musing meditation, the close of many a 
summer evening's walk — breathing as it w r ere an atmos- 
phere around it, that made its memory blessed. 

The remains now before us, form thus, as we may all see,. 
a most important part of the College itself — one of its chief 
historical treasures indeed, more valuable than any other 
portion of its literary apparatus — which ought of right to 
accompany it in its removal to this place. "Without them, 
the/transfer could never be altogether final and complete. 
Without them, the affections of its alumni could never go 
wholly after it, so as to settle with full home-like feeling 
in its new connections and relations. They- would con- 
tinue to linger still with fond recollection around his mon- 
ument at Mercersburg, as though half the glory of the old 
institution lay buried there with his slumbering dust. It 
was a debt due to Franklin and Marshall College, then, 
to complete at this time the act of consolidation out of 
which it has grown, by bringing the contents of that hon- 
ored grave to Lancaster; that being solemnly committed 
here to a new tomb, and crowned with new marble, they 
might be outwardly and openly joined henceforward with 
the living history of the College in its new form. Let the 
city of Lancaster welcome these illustrious remains. They 
will be an ornament to her cemetery, a jewel in the coronet 
of her future fame. Especially let the friends of Franklin 



29 

and Marshall College, its Board of Trustees, its Faculty, 
its Students, take home to themselves with new honor and 
affection the memory of the man, whose hones are placed 
this day as a precious legacy in their hands ; and whose 
grave is to be for them from this time forward their own 
visible and solemn pledge, may we not say, that they will 
show themselves true and faithful to the interests of learn- 
ing, which have been consigned to them in such honorable 
conjunction as a great public trust. The best wish we can 
utter in behalf of the institution is, that it may never cease 
to be known as worthy of the name, and true to the spirit, 
of its first President, Frederick Augustus Rauch. 



s 






